Alyson Winchester: He's Leaving Home
by WaywardDaughter18
Summary: Sam leaves for college, John leaves on a hunt and then doesn't come back, and Dean and Aly are left to pick up the pieces. Same AU as The Adventures of Alyson Winchester. Rated M for cursing. Contains spanking; If You Don't Like It, Don't Read.


SUMMARY: Sam leaves for college, John leaves on a hunt and then doesn't come back, and Dean and Aly are left to pick up the pieces.

Aly: age 10, Sam: age 18, Dean: age 22

 **AUTHOR' S NOTE: Not gonna lie, my lovelies, I cried while I wrote this one. Read with a tissue handy.**

 **If this is your first time reading one of my fanfics, please check out my page for more stories with Alyson Winchester. The main story is called 'The Adventures of Alyson Winchester', and there is now a sequel called 'Winchester Interrupted: The Further Adventures of Alyson Winchester'. There are also several one-shots about Aly at different ages.**

PART I: HE'S LEAVING HOME

It felt like Sam was gone for good. He was my big brother, my teacher, my best friend. He was the one I told all of my secrets to and shared all my thoughts and dreams with. When Dad started taking him on hunts, I felt like I was losing him.

Then he got his driver's license at 16 and he was gone even more- driving to the library to meet friends and staying after school for different activities; I felt forgotten. His junior year of high school, he started talking about going away to college. He spent senior year looking at schools and discussing options and plans. Dad didn't want him to, and they argued about it. A _lot._ Sam had been butting heads with Dad for years, but now the tension between them was almost intolerable. Sam didn't think that Dad should be telling him and Dean what to do all the time. He said that Dad was trying to control everything in our lives and that we should be free to choose what we wanted to do and not have to follow in Dad's footsteps.

Dad's anger made him fall back on his "drill sergeant routine" as Dean called it, where all he did was bark orders and would come down hard on us if we deviated one bit from them. He always got more stern and uncompromising when he was like that, and I ended up getting my butt roasted a couple of times because I wasn't 'respectful enough' or I didn't follow his orders 'quickly enough.' Mostly, I just tried my hardest to behave and stay out of the way.

The summer before Sam left was terrible. Almost every time they came back from a hunt they would be arguing, and then there would be slammed doors and dark glances and muttered insults for the rest of the time we remained at wherever we were staying. I wasn't immune to the backlash either- I got left behind while they went off on a hunt, and that made me upset as well. The tension between the Winchester men meant that Dad was always angry so he was intolerant of even the most benign of misbehaviors. That translated to me sometimes getting punished practically within hours of them coming back from a hunt.

By the end of the summer, we were all emotionally exhausted and not talking to each other unless it was necessary. It was time for school to start soon, which meant that they didn't go out as much or as far. It seemed that closer quarters with all four of us just made everything worse.

Then, in the late summer, Sam announced that he was leaving. Dad had talked at dinner that night about taking me out the next day to buy school supplies and clothes. Sam had remained quiet while we ate, not looking any of us in the eye. When we'd finished, I stood to start clearing the table while Dean muttered something about going out, and suddenly Sam cleared his throat, and said, "Uh, I'm leaving for college. Tonight."

All of us looked at him, stunned.

"What do you mean?" I didn't quite understand that 'leaving for college' meant that he was going to live somewhere else.

"I'm going away to college. I got accepted to Stanford on a full ride. My car's all packed," Sam looked at each of us.

"You're…you're leaving?" I asked, tears suddenly filling my eyes.

Dad slammed his fist down on the table. "God- _damit,_ Sam! Why didn't you ask my permission?"

"Dad, I've been talking about this for a _whole year!_ You just haven't been listening!"

"You didn't say you were actually going!" Dad glared at Sam.

Sam leaned forward, his hazel eyes matching Dad's glare. "Yes I _did!_ You were so busy telling me that I didn't know what I wanted that you haven't heard a word I've been saying this whole time!"

"You're not going."

"Dad-"

"You're _NOT_ going!" Dad said resolutely.

"Dad, I got a scholarship for the _full four years!_ I-"

"Samuel, I _forbid_ you to go! _Do you hear me?"_ Dad's voice got louder as he gave Sam The Winchester Glare.

"Dad, I'm not a little kid that you can boss around anymore!"

"You are _not_ going to college! That is an _order,_ young man!" Dad yelled.

Sam stood up. "Fuck this! I don't have to listen to this anymore. I'm 18 and I can do what I want!"

He stepped away from the table and Dad stood up and followed him. "No, Sam, you can't! You're needed here!"

Sam turned back to Dad. "Yeah, I'm needed to do your grunt work, be bossed around and thank you for the privilege. Well, not any more. I'm getting out from under your thumb and I'm going to go be my own person."

"I'm _warning_ you-"

"What?" Sam walked right up to Dad and got in his face, and their chests puffed out and their chins went up. "What are you going to do? Whip my ass for having my own mind? For having my own hopes and dreams for the future? I'm not that skinny little boy who's pining for your approval any more, Dad!" Sam shouted.

Dean scrambled out of his chair and hustled over to them, trying to get in between them like he so often did these days. "All right, stop it, both of you! That's enough!" Dean grabbed at Sam's shirt and pushed him back. He turned to Dad.

"That means you too!" he said, as Dad took a menacing step forward.

"I'm warning you, Sam..." Dad repeated, his voice even louder than before.

"I'm leaving, and that's final. You can't stop me," Sam said flatly.

 _"Sam!"_ Dad's face got red and he was so angry that he couldn't even speak anymore.

Sam walked into the living room and grabbed his keys off of the side table.

Dad took a deep breath and yelled, "IF YOU WALK OUT THAT DOOR, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING BACK!"

Sam turned slowly and stared at Dad, pressing his lips together, and shaking his head slightly.

"You know, it didn't have to be this way," he muttered. He glanced briefly at me and Dean before he walked out of the house.

Dean rushed over to the door and Dad called to him, "Dean!"

It was a warning. Dean looked back at Dad and I could plainly see the dilemma playing out in his mind; he wanted to go to Sam but he also wanted to obey Dad.

My heart was breaking. I pushed past Dean and ran out into the night.

When I caught up to him, Sam was opening the door to his VW bug.

"Sam!" I called, "Sammy!"

Dean was right behind me. "Aly, no, get back in the house!"

He grabbed me from behind and held me back.

"Sam, why do you have to go?" I whined.

"Sammy, come on, man, we need you," Dean said weakly, "Don't do this."

"Dean, I'm not Daddy's good little soldier boy like you," Sam replied bitterly, "I never have been."

I looked up at Dean's face and I knew that those words had hurt him.

Sam swallowed thickly, his eyes apologetic, "I can't do this anymore, Dean. There's a whole world out there that has nothing to do with the Supernatural and people live in it every day. They go to college, get married and have kids, pay their mortgage, live the apple pie life...I can't do any of that here. He'll never let me."

"We- we could figure something out…" Dean sounded like he was going to cry.

Sam shook his head. "No, man, you heard him. I told him I want to go to school and he all but kicked me out. That's not _normal,_ Dean! _Nothing_ about this life he's dragged us into is normal. And you know what, I'm _done!"_

"Nooo!" I yelled, breaking free of Dean and rushing towards Sam.

Sam bent down and picked me up.

"Don't leave, Sammy, please don't leave! I….I _need_ you!" I begged him, throwing my arms around his neck and bursting into tears.

He held me tightly, stroking my hair and rocking me for a few moments.

"Oh, Aly," he whispered, "I have to go. Please, Alybug, I have to do this. For me."

I pulled back and looked at him, "No you don't! _Please!"_

His face was red and tears were on his cheeks. "Yes, I do."

I hugged him tightly again. _"NO!_ I won't let you!"

"Yes, Aly. Sweetheart, it's okay. Aly, please don't make this any harder…I have to go. Dean, help me..."

Dean stepped forward and gently unclenched my hands from Sam's collar, pulling me into his arms and placing me onto his hip. Just then it started to rain, the type of warm summer rain that falls suddenly and quietly.

"Sam!" I sobbed, "No!"

He stared at us for a moment and then stepped forward and hugged Dean quickly. I felt him kiss the top of my head and then he stepped back and got in the car.

"NOOOO! SAMMYYYY!" I screamed as the engine started.

The car pulled away as we stood there staring after it, my heart breaking into a thousand little pieces. We stood there watching the tail lights growing smaller and smaller until we finally lost sight of him.

I was sobbing inconsolably as Dean carried me inside.

Dad was sitting on the sofa with a bottle of Jack in front of him. He set his glass down, filled it to the brim and drained it all in one shot. He looked at us.

"You two should get changed out of those wet clothes," he said matter-of-factly, like he hadn't just thrown my brother out of all our lives forever.

Dean took me into my room and set me down.

"You want to get ready for bed?" he asked, even though it was only 7 pm.

I didn't answer him. I just hugged myself and walked over to the window, leaning my head against the glass and watching the rain rolling down outside of the pane.

Dean walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of pajamas. Then he turned to me and said, "Aly, come look."

I sighed resignedly and walked over to him. Sam had put a couple of his t-shirts in my p. , knowing how much I loved to sleep in them. I picked one up and Dean helped me undress. I slipped the t-shirt over my head and hugged it to me; it smelled just like Sam. I started to cry harder than before and Dean sat down on my bed and pulled me onto his lap, hugging me tightly. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and sobbed into his shirt, my head resting on the dampening patch of flannel on his chest. Eventually, I fell asleep.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"IF YOU WALK OUT THAT DOOR, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING BACK!"

Day four. The three of us were living in the same house but it felt like we were strangers. Dad's words seemed to hang heavily in the air, stifling us and making it near impossible to live with each other. We didn't talk to each other unless absolutely neccessary.

Shortly after that, Dad had left on a case while Dean stayed behind as I started school. Dad was gone a couple of days at first, calling every night to check on my homework and tuck me in bed over the phone. Then he let Dean know that he would be gone a few more days at least. After that the calls came every other night for several days, and then he stopped calling altogether. And then he didn't come home.

That was almost a month ago. It was obvious to me that Dean was getting tired and stressed, but he tried to shield me from it. His emotions were still too raw and close to the surface for him to hide all that well. We both missed Sam. We were both worried about Dad. And he was left trying to care for his sullen, bratty 10 year old sister while dealing with the day to day routine of life- laundry, grocery shopping, making sure I got to school, meals- all while dealing with his mixed up emotions and worries on his own.

I tried to behave myself in the beginning but as days went by, I got more and more upset, and the stress of that made me cranky and then mouthy. I kept pushing Dean's buttons, unable to help myself. At first he was swift with his retribution and there were a few days where I found myself walking around with a sore behind, but then he stopped.

He started letting my sassy comments go, didn't get on me about my chores or homework. He forgot to make my lunch a couple of times, and then forgot to leave me any lunch money when I got tired of reminding him.

Every morning when I woke up, there would still be a few stray empty beer bottles on the coffee table and Dean would look very tired. I'd find the rest in the outside garbage cans whenever I tried to take out the always overflowing kitchen trash. When he finally realized that I knew, he left them any and everywhere. He stopped shaving and worrying about laundry, wearing the same clothes for days at a time until I had to hold my breath just to walk past him. We made a really sorry pair.

For the past week I'd been grumpy and out-of-sorts. I had started having bad dreams almost every night, and would wake up and be too scared to go back to sleep. The insomnia was getting to me. I was barely eating and I couldn't pay attention in class because I was so tired. I had almost been late to school three times this week, and that morning I had yelled at Dean when he told me to hurry up. I stared at him, fully expecting him to swat me, or at the very least scold me, but he'd said nothing. I felt so bad that I apologized, but he never even responded.

After school, he had forgotten to meet me at the bus stop once again, and I had had to walk home in a cold drizzle. I was annoyed when I entered the house and saw him sitting on the sofa in front of the t.v., wearing a bathrobe.

"You forgot me again!" I said accusingly, "What the hell is wrong with you? You're forgetting _everything!_ I asked you for lunch money _twice_ this week! I had to eat those disgusting PB and J sandwiches they give to kids that don't bring any food!"

Dean just grunted at me as he took a sip of his beer. I stood there fuming for a moment and then stomped to my room to change into dry clothes, surprised that he hadn't laid into me for swearing. It was later that evening when everything reached a tipping point, and for some reason, it was the laundry that did it for him.

We were sitting at the kitchen table eating yet another delicious pair of t.v. dinners.

"Get your dirty clothes together," he told me, "I'll wash clothes tonight and sheets tomorrow."

"It's Friday," I said, surprised that he even remembered the word 'laundry', "I don't want to do any chores."

He sighed, "Aly, just help me out here. Don't give me any crap, and gather your clothes- it'll take you 5 minutes, all right?"

I frowned at my plate. "I don't _want_ to!" I said, feeling a sudden change in atmosphere.

"You know, I'm sick of your whining!" he snapped suddenly.

That hurt my feelings. _"Fine!"_ I said loudly, sitting up straight, "I'll go to my room where you won't have to hear me whine, or talk, or-or breathe then!"

He rubbed his hand across his face and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said with a defeated tone, "I shouldn't have said that."

I stabbed at the withered vegetables in the little tray with my fork.

"Eat your dinner," he said.

"This is gross," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, it's all we got, so deal with it."

"I'm not really hungry anyways!" I huffed.

He looked at me. "Fine. If you're not going to eat, then go get your laundry, like I told you to. Bring it out to the living room and we can sort it together."

"I _said_ I don't _want_ to!" I shouted irritably.

He stared at me for a moment, and then his face got hard. "I don't _care_ if you don't want to, you're _gonna_ do it, because I _said so."_

"No I'm _NOT!"_ I yelled, glaring defiantly at him. I threw my fork down and it clattered across the table and fell onto the floor.

He looked at me for a long moment, then it was if he had come to a decision. He pushed his chair back from the table. "I've had enough," his voice was quiet and hard, "Get over here," he slapped his thigh.

"Deeeean, I'm sorry-" I whined, realizing I had pushed him too far. Quiet Dean was scarier than Yelling Dean, and did not bode well for my bottom.

"Too late," he said, "I'm tired of your sassy mouth. You have three seconds to get over my lap. One."

By the time he said two I was there, laying across his lap. He spanked me hard, his hand falling on every inch of my bottom, and I burst into tears as the first swat fell because I felt guilty for being so awful to him. After my butt was thoroughly sore, he stood me in front of him, holding my arm.

"Are we done here, or do you need some more to remind you how to behave?"

"We're done," I sobbed, hoping that I sounded sincere enough to convince him of that, "I'm sorry Dean. I won't sass you anymore."

"You'd better not, or your pants are coming down the next time, and I'll use the hairbrush," he grumbled.

He stared at my tear stained face, listening to my breath hitching and shook his head. "Come here," he sighed, pulling me into his arms and hugging me tightly to him. We stood there holding each other for a few minutes. I intended to go to my room to get the laundry, but instead I clutched at him tightly and started crying again, surprising even myself.

"I miss Sam!" I wailed into his chest, "It hurts so much, Dean. When will it stop hurting?"

He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head. "I know, Aly," he soothed, "It's been hard for me too."

It was the first time he'd admitted as much and somehow his finally opening up to me helped ease some of the weight that had been on my shoulders these past weeks.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, crying harder, the sense of relief a little overwhelming. "I'll be good from now on."

"Okay, Aly. Shhhh," he kissed my hair again, although he probably didn't understand why I was still upset.

When I'd finally calmed, I went to my room and gathered up my dirty clothes and brought them to the living room like he'd told me to. We sorted them and then he put the first load in the washing machine. Since it was Friday, we sat down to watch the cheesy cooking competition reality show that Sam and I had watched together before he'd left.

When it was over, I turned to Dean and asked, "Can I call Sam to talk about the show?"

That had been our little ritual since he'd left. We'd watch the show separately on Fridays, and then I'd call him and we'd talk about it afterwards. It might have been silly, but it was a connection I clung to like a lifeline. Sam refused to talk about Dad or Dean, hunting, or even the notion of coming home. That was one of the conditions he'd imposed on our Friday night calls. I needed to hear his voice and to know he was safe, so I didn't complain.

I dialed his number and listened to it ring at least 6 times before he finally picked up.

"Hey!" I heard him say. He was laughing and it sounded like he was holding the phone away from his ear.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hi Sam!" I said, smiling happily at hearing his voice.

"Hello? Who is….oh, Aly?" I could hear a lot of noise in the background now and loud music. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked, loudly.

"Fine...did you watch?"

"Watch what?" he asked, and then I heard him say away from the phone, "Get me another. No, not that, Dos Equis."

"Our show, silly!" I said, "What's Doz Ekees?"

"Oh. Uh… no, I didn't watch it tonight," he stammered uncomfortably.

"Why not? We always watch it together."

"Well...I got invited to celebrate a friend's birthday," he told me, "I thought I'd watch it later."

All of a sudden, I felt tears looming. Not only had he suddenly decided that we weren't good enough for him but now he was out going to birthday parties and having fun with his new friends. It was obvious he was making a new life there with no thought whatsoever to how much his family was sitting at home and missing him.

"Never mind," I said, stonily.

"I'll be there in a second!" he said loudly to someone else, "Just hold up! What did you say, Aly?"

"I said NEVER MIND!" I shouted into the phone, "SORRY I called you and interrupted your fun!"

"Hey, Alybug," he said, mildly, "Don't be like that…"

I didn't say anything. He didn't get to call me that. Not anymore.

"Aly? You there?"

"I gotta go, Sam," I said quickly, "It's time for bed."

I closed the phone before he could say anything else and practically threw it at Dean, who was sitting next to me on the couch. I ran to my room and threw myself on my bed, bursting into tears.

A few minutes later, when I had calmed down a bit, I heard Dean's raised voice coming from the living room.

"-wanted to talk with you!" he yelled, "That's your thing, dammit, watching that show and talking every Friday night! Yeah, well, maybe you should think about someone other than yourself, you dick! She cried herself to sleep _every night_ for the first week and a half after you left, did you know that? ... I don't know, _should_ you talk to her? Are you going to have a real conversation or just say more shit that will hurt her feelings?"

Dean's voice got louder and I realized he was walking down the hallway, towards my room. He came in and sat down on my bed, holding out the phone to me.

"Here," he said simply, "Sam wants to talk to you."

I sat up, wiping my eyes, and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Aly?" Sam said, relieved. I could still hear music in the background, but it was muffled. "Hey, I'm sorry about before and I'm sorry I didn't watch our show."

"It's okay, Sam. I…I know you have more important things to do over there."

"Aw, don't say that," he said, "You're important to me, sweetheart, and I love you. I'll watch the show tomorrow and call you so we can talk about it, okay?"

"Okay Sam. Love you back."

"I...I have to go," he said apologetically.

"Bye." I said, and hung up the phone. I handed it to Dean.

He looked at me and put his arms around me. "Sorry that happened," he said, rubbing my back as I cried a little more. I sat back and wiped my eyes again.

"Let's go out and do something tomorrow, okay kiddo? Something fun."

"Okay Dean," I replied.

"You gonna get ready for bed now?"

"Yeah," I said, "Can I sit with you in the living room for a bit?"

"Sure, sweetheart," he smiled, patting my thigh. He got up and left the room. I put on one of Sam's t-shirts and padded out to Dean.

All the emotional upheaval of the night had left me near exhausted. I curled up on Dean's lap, snuggling my face into his soft flannel. I missed Dad and I missed Sam, but there was something about Dean that always made me feel safe and loved. It might have been because he was so protective of me or maybe because he was the eldest. All I knew, was that sitting like this with him, always made me feel content and happy. He rubbed my back, humming "Smoke on the Water" as he watched t.v. and I could feel the vibrations as I lay against his chest. It was like a favorite lullaby and it didn't take long before I started to drift off to sleep.

"Aly?" I barely heard him say, "Aly, let's get you to bed. Okay, she's out," he sighed.

The last thing I remembered was feeling his arms under me, lifting me up and then, I was asleep.

PART II: DREAMS TO NIGHTMARES

The class was packing up and getting ready to be dismissed. The classroom phone rang and the teacher picked it up and listened for a moment. Then she hung up and looked at us.

'"Quiet down, please. Alyson, go to the office for dismissal instead of the car rider line."

I finished zipping up my backpack. I wondered what that meant. Was somebody in the office waiting for me? Maybe Daddy had finally come home?

The teacher told the car riders to line up and said to me, "You may go now."

I walked to the office, anticipation making my stomach flutter. What if it was Dad? Through the window in the door, I saw the back of my brother's head. He turned when I came into the office. I walked up the the secretary and handed her my car rider slip.

"Sign her out," she said to Dean. He leaned over the clipboard and signed me out, then looked at me.

"Let's go," he said, and I could tell he was upset. The thing I had to find out was, was he upset with me, and why?

I hurried to keep up with him as his long legs strode across the parking lot. He grabbed my arm at one point when a car started backing out in front of us.

"Dean," I said hesitantly, "What's wrong?"

He opened up the back door for me and I got in and he shut it. Then he got into the front seat and turned around. "I'll tell you what's wrong. I get a call from the school saying you went to the guidance counselor crying about Dad! She wanted me to come in and talk to her!"

I shrank down into my seat. "I- I couldn't help it!" I protested.

He started the car and we drove home. I could tell he was angry.

We walked in and he grabbed me first thing and bent down to me. "How many times do I have to _tell_ you, we stay under the radar? Crying at school and being sent to the guidance counselor is just about the _worst_ thing you could do! She's ready to send a social worker over here to check things out! Is that what you want?" He shook me angrily.

"No, Dean!" I exclaimed, tears coming to my eyes, "I didn't mean to-I- I can't help it!" I tried not to cry, but suddenly, tears were pouring down my face.

"It's been 32 days since we heard from Daddy, Dean, I've been counting, and I'm _scared!_ I've been having dreams that he's dead, and I-I don't want them to be true! I just want to know where Daddy is!" I wailed.

He stared down at me, and his shoulders slumped. All of the anger went out of him, and his face softened as he looked at me. Then he bent down and picked me up.

"I'm sorry, Aly," he said gently, "I didn't know you've been having bad dreams. Why didn't you tell me what's been going on? I'm your big brother, that's what I'm here for."

"I didn't want to bother you!" I sobbed, "You've been...having a rough time."

He hugged me tightly. "Well, shit," he murmured to himself, stroking the back of my head. Then he pulled back and looked me in the eyes, his face earnest.

"Listen, you need to tell me about these things. Even if it's the middle of the night. And if you're too scared to get out of bed, then yell for me and I'll come to you. It's not gonna bother me. Okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay Dean," I nodded. He walked over to the couch and sat down with me on his lap.

"I'll make some more calls tonight, see if any other hunters know where Dad is," he told me reassuringly, "Hopefully Bobby has heard something."

"Dean, what if- what if-" I started, and he said, "No, shh, we're not going to do that. Don't think about what ifs, you hear me? We're going to figure this out."

He stroked my hair back from my face. "Go wash your face and then let's go get something to eat."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I could hear sobbing...and clicking...something touched my face and I moved my head. I opened my eyes and looked up. I was in the back seat of the car, and my head was in Dean's lap. I could see rain drops on the back window.

We were driving to Stanford to talk to Sam. I think Dean wanted to see if he could convince Sam to come home.

Dean touched my face again and I registered that he was wiping tears off of my face.

"Alyson, are you awake?" he asked quietly.

I sat up, and my chest hitched. "Yeah," I said, and my voice was hoarse, "What're you doing?"

"I had to pull over," he told me, "You fell asleep, and you started having a nightmare and I couldn't wake you up while I was driving."

I shuddered, recalling the images from my dream.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just...remembering parts of it."

"Like what?" he asked, brushing my hair back from my face.

"Um...there was lots of fire...and, uh, Daddy was there fighting some guy, there were knives and stuff," tears came to my eyes again, "It was scary!"

He put his hand on my shoulder. "It was just a dream," he said, "C'mon, grab your stuff."

"Why?" I looked at him.

"You're gonna ride up front with me, so I can keep a better eye on you."

"But- you always say it's not safe!"

"Well, this is a special circumstance," Dean told me, "It's only a couple more hours to Stanford."

I unbuckled my seat belt and then gathered my blanket and pillow. I got into the front seat, and Dean turned off the emergency flashers- that was the clicking I'd heard.

He patted his thigh. "C'mon, lay down and go back to sleep."

I laid down with my head on his thigh, and he pulled the blanket over me and tucked it around me.

"I remember something else," I said, yawning.

"Yeah? What's that?" Dean twisted as he turned to look behind him to get back onto the highway.

"There was yellow...yellow eyes," I murmured, being lulled back to sleep by the repetitive sound of the windshield wipers.

"Huh," he said. I felt his leg shift under me as he turned the wheel of the car.

I woke up being held tightly. There was something across my front, holding my arms down, and my back was pressed against something solid.

I opened my eyes. I was in Sam's bedroom at his apartment.

"Aly?" Sam was sitting in front of me, "Are you awake now?"

His forehead was creased with concern. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Aly? Sweetheart?"

"I'm awake," I said, my voice thick with tears. My face was wet. I tried to put my hand up and wipe my face, but I couldn't move my arms. I looked down. Dean's arms were wrapped around me from behind.

"What are you doing?" I asked, turning my head to look at Dean.

"I think she is awake now," Sam said, and I felt Dean's arms loosen. He moved off of the bed behind me and came around to sit next to me. His face was worried.

"Guys, what's going on?" I asked, confused. Why were they looking at me like that?

"You were having a nightmare," Sam told me, "A really bad one." He looked at me. "Do you remember anything about it?"

I shook my head. "Uh-uh."

Sam sighed, and looked at Dean. "I'm going to stay in here with you, okay?" he said to me.

"Uh, okay," I said. "What's wrong?"

"It was just- really intense," Sam said. "And I want to be there if it starts happening again. Lay down."

I laid down, and he pulled the covers up.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then he stood up.

Dean leaned over and stroked my hair back from my face, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Go back to sleep, short stuff," he said gently. "Sammy and me'll be right here."

I rolled over and closed my eyes, comforted by the fact that I was in Sam's bed, and I could smell his Sam-smell on his pillow. Dean got up, and they both walked outside of the room, and closed the door partway. They began to talk in low voices, and I don't know how, but I could hear them clear as day. Maybe because the hallway was bare and echoey.

"Has she had many of them?" Sam asked.

"Not as bad as this one," Dean said. "I didn't even know at first, she didn't tell me until after I'd been called to school, because she started crying in class."

"Geez," Sam said. "What happened with that?"

"She's scared because Dad's been gone for so long. She told me about the nightmares after that. I hadn't, uh, noticed anything."

"You hadn't noticed anything?" Sam sounded skeptical.

"Yeah, well, Aly's not the only one who's been having a hard time, okay?" Dean said gruffly. "It's been rough with both you and Dad gone. She, uh, had one in the car on the way here too, screaming and crying, and I couldn't wake her up. I had to pull onto the shoulder and physically wake her."

"Oh man," Sam said. "We've _got_ to figure out what's going on with her. And Dad hasn't called at all?"

"Nope. Bobby hasn't heard anything from him either."

"Dammit," Sam swore. He sighed. "All right, I'll come back with you for a few days, and see what we can do."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn~ ~

Sam picked me up from school in his VW Bug. I ran to the car and threw myself into the back, then jumped onto the back seat and threw my arms around his neck.

"Sammy!" I exclaimed happily, kissing his cheek.

"Hey, easy!" He said, laughing. "Sit down so we can go, willya?"

I sat down and put my seatbelt on. "I'm so happy to see you!" I said gleefully, pounding the back of his seat.

"Hey, be nice to the Bug," he said over his shoulder.

When we got out of the car, I grabbed him in a tight hug, not letting him go, and he sighed and then picked me up and carried me in on his hip.

As we came into the house, Dean sat up on the couch.

"What's wrong, is Aly hurt?" he asked, seeing me in Sam's arms.

"No, she jumped on me as soon as she got out of the car." Sam put me down and went over to the table. I put my backpack on one of the chairs and leaned on his arm as he turned his lap top on.

"Whatcha looking at?" I asked.

A browser window was open, it said, "Night Terrors in Children- Information".

I looked at him. "What's that for? Do you guys have a case?"

Sam turned his head to look at me. "No, Aly, it's for you."

I stood up straight. "What do you mean? What are night terrors?" I looked over at Dean.

"Your nightmares," Sam said. "Last night was really intense, that was more than just a run of the mill nightmare. I wanted to look up info on night terrors and see what we can do about them."

I looked down at my feet, feeling guilty. "Sorry," I said quietly.

Sam put his hand under my chin and lifted it so I would look at him.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, okay? It's not something you can help. We just need to figure out how to help you. And _you_ need to keep talking to us. _Okay_? Don't hide something because you don't want to bother us. You're not a bother."

For some reason that made my eyes fill with tears. Sam saw, and he pulled me in for a hug.

"I know you've had a rough time." he said gently. "I'm going to be here to help for now."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I came out of the bathroom after my bath and padded down the hallway, looking for Sam and Dean to say goodnight to them. I stopped outside the half opened kitchen door, hearing the clanking of glass beer bottles. I pushed it open a little more so that I could see what was happening. Sam was standing by the trash can, tying a bag closed that was brimming with Dean's empties.

"What's going on, Dean?" I heard Sam say, but his voice was gentle, not mean. "I come home and it looks like you've single-handedly been keeping Sonny's Liquor Store in business, the fridge is bare, there's trash piled up outside, and our room smells like...I don't even know what. Aly told me about talking to the guidance counselor, because of her issues with the nightmares. I know things really broke down here, and you dealt with it in your own way but...you really need to talk with Aly and let her know you're on the same page with her. She feels really alone, man. And I know I didn't help, leaving like I did. I'm sorry for the part I've played, but...I had to go away, for myself. You know?"

I heard the squeak of a cabinet door opening and closing and then the tap running for a moment. Sam turned and took a drink, then set the glass on the counter.

"We've all got to stick together now, and be a team, especially since Dad's not back yet. You and I need to support Aly so she feels better about things. I know it's not your thing, but talk to her, willya?"

I stepped into the doorway just then. My brothers didn't see me, they were focused completely on each other.

Sam stopped talking and stared at Dean, and Dean was just looking back at him silently with an unreadable expression.  
They stood there for a moment just staring at each other, and I could see Sam's face get an uneasy look on it, "Dean?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"I'm just glad you're back, Sammy," Dean said gruffly, different emotions warring on his face, "Don't you ever do that to me again, huh?"

Dean grabbed Sam in a hug for a long moment.

"I'm ready for bed," I told them.

"All right, we'll be in in a minute," Sam said, as they let go of each other. I turned and walked to my bedroom.

PART III: HOME AGAIN

I woke up suddenly, listening. Then I heard the sound that woke me up. That familiar deep voice-

"Daddy!" I ran out to the living room, straight at him, not even seeing how he, Sam and Dean were standing in defensive postures, glaring at each other, eyes narrowed and jaws set-

I jumped, holding my arms up to him like I always did, and he leaned down and caught me by force of habit, but he didn't swing me up. He hugged me loosely and set me down, still looking at my brothers.

"Daddy, where have you been?" I asked him, looking up at him and trying to hug him tighter, "I missed you so much!"

"Alyson, I need for you to go back to bed," he said, and his voice was hoarse. He still didn't look at me.

"But Dad-"

"Aly, come here," Sam said in an odd sounding voice. I let go of Daddy and walked over to Sam, who hugged me tightly for a moment and then patted my back and told me, "Go back to bed."

"But I want to see Da-"

"Aly, GO," Dean said forcefully, and I went. He looked angry and stern, but it wasn't directed at me. I didn't close my door, but stood right inside the doorway so I could listen to them talk.

"You wanna know why I came back?" Sam asked tightly, "To clean up _your_ goddamn mess."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dad asked.

"That little girl, she's been having nightmares- no, she's now having _night terrors_ , because she's been afraid that you're _dead!_ Because you ran off and you've been gone doing God knows what for over a month now!"

"What I've been doing is important- " Dad started, but Sam interrupted him.

"Yeah, in your own mind!" Sam snapped, "You've _always_ been selfish, going off on your own and doing things your way, dragging us along behind you, but you can't do that any more! Aly's not a little kid who is satisfied with staying with us any more! She needs _you, here!_ "

" _IF_ you would let me _TALK,_ God- dammit!" Dad said loudly, "There's a good reason I've been gone for so long. I've finally found it."

"What, you mean the thing that—that-" Dean said, and he sounded anxious and hopeful.

"Yes, and... I think I know what it is."

Dean asked eagerly, "Well, what is it?"

" It _is_ a demon, like I've suspected. And he's a bad son of a bitch. I've been gathering intel on him and trying to track him down. I had to stay away because I was worried that it wasn't safe for you all. I'm going to tell you everything, but I need a drink first."

I heard their footsteps walking away into the kitchen, and then all I could hear was the low murmur of their voices. I didn't understand what Daddy was talking about but I knew if I asked him he would know I had been eavesdropping, and then I'd get into trouble. I sighed and got into my bed, feeling sure that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep, but the next thing I knew, Sam was waking me up.

"Time to get up," he said, shaking my shoulder.

I sat up. "Did- did Daddy really come home lat night, or was I dreaming?" I asked.

Sam straightened up. "He came home last night," he said, but he didn't seem happy about it.

I jumped out of bed. "Where is he? Is he awake?" I ran out of my room, with Sam trailing behind me calling, "Aly, wait-"

Daddy was sprawled on the sofa, asleep. I ran over and got on the sofa next to him, throwing my arms around him. "Daddy!" I said happily.

He sat up partway with a grunt, blinking at me. "Oh- Aly-" he said, his voice thick with sleep, "What are you doing?"

"Good morning!" I sang, and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

He sank back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Sweetheart, Daddy's really tired," he mumbled, "Let me rest for a while."

"Come on, Aly, you need to get ready for school," I heard Dean say.

I turned around. "I don't wanna go to school!" I said.

"What?" Sam asked, "Why not?"

"I want to stay home and be with Daddy!"

"Aly, you can't miss school just because Dad came home," Sam said.

"But Saaaamm-" I whined.

Daddy put his hand on my arm. "Alyson. Let me rest," he said in a firm voice.

"But Dad-"

He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Go, Aly," he gave me a little push.

Tears came to my eyes and I got off the sofa and ran to my room, slamming and locking the door. I was so happy to see him, why wasn't he happy to see me? I just wanted to be with him, it had been weeks and weeks, why were my brothers going to insist that I go to school-

"Alyson, unlock this door!" Dean pounded on my door.

"Go away!" I shouted, wiping my eyes.

"You have until the count of three to unlock this door, little girl..." Dean said threateningly, "One..." he said, "Sam, give it here—two...Aly I _mean_ it, you're gonna be in trouble if I get to three..." he paused, "All right then, _three,"_ he said with finality.

I heard and saw the doorknob jiggling which meant he was using the lock pick on it. The door swung open and as he walked towards me I threw my pillow at him.

"That's four!" he said angrily. He caught the pillow and tossed it on the bed, then sat down and turned me over his lap.

"I'm about ready to take that damn doorknob off," he said, as he began to spank me. "How many times do we have to go through this, you do _not_ lock the door when you're angry?" His hand fell at a steady pace, warming my butt.

"Let me up!" I shouted, struggling on his lap. Tears were starting but I fought them.

"No, little girl," he said, and he pushed the hem of my t-shirt up and then pulled my underpants down.

"Dean!" I protested, trying to twist off of his lap. He held my waist tightly.

"You got to four, Alyson, when you threw that pillow at me. You know better than that," Getting to four was a rare occurrence, but it meant a bare-bottom spanking.

I shrieked and then burst into tears as his hand began to pepper my bare butt with sharp swats.

"I'm sorry! I won't lock the door any more! " I wailed, "I'm sorry Dean!"

He pulled my underpants back up and stood me in front of him.

"You need to get ready for school," he said sternly, and his face was still angry.

"But Dean-" I started, and he pulled me over towards his lap again. "Aly I don't want to hear it, I'm serious-"

I tried to step away. "Wait!" I cried out, "I just- I just want to see Daddy, what if he leaves again?" I asked, "What if I go to school and he leaves and then when I come home he's not here again!" I started crying harder.

"She can stay home," said a deep voice, and we turned to see Daddy standing in the doorway.

"Dad-" Dean said, but Dad shook his head. "It's all right," he said.

He looked at me. "Come here, pumpkin," he said, and I walked over to him, and this time he did pick me up. He hugged me tightly and I wrapped my arms around him.

Dean got up and walked by us. "Way to undermine things, Dad," he muttered bitterly as he left the room.

Daddy walked over to the bed and sat down, still holding me.

"Where were you?" I asked. "Why were you gone for so long?"

"I was hunting," he told me, stroking my hair back from my face. "I was investigating something that was very dangerous and I had to- see it through to the end. I had to be alone to concentrate on it."

"Did you get rid of it?" I asked him.

"No, I didn't," he sighed.

"What was it?" I looked up at him.

"You don't need to know that, baby girl," he said. "Don't worry about it, okay? I'm home now," he hugged me tightly and rested his chin on my head. After a long moment, he said, "You want to tell me about these nightmares you were having?"

"No," I said. "They were scary."

Daddy touched my cheek with his fingertips. "I _want_ you to tell me about them, Aly."

I sighed. "Okay." I said. "It was lots of stuff like fire, and knives, and sometimes you were fighting with someone-"

"Fighting? What did they look like?"

"Um, I can't remember. In some of the dreams, you- you died." Tears came to my eyes again and I leaned my head on his chest. He hugged me for a moment.

"I cried in school one time and the teacher- she sent me to the guidance counselor, and she talked to me, and Dean- he had to come in and talk to her too, and she was all worried about it. I told her that you were on a business trip and had been missing for a while. She started talking about a social worker and Dean got mad at me." I stared down at my lap, feeling guility again. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Daddy said. "I wanted to get in touch with you sooner, but like I said, I was dealing with something- dangerous."

"I'm glad you're okay, and home now," I snuggled up to him.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Sam quit school and moved back home. When I asked why, he just said, "Because I'm needed here." I overheard enough quiet conversations to piece together that Daddy was hunting something big, something important, and that he needed all the help he could get. Sam started to work on the research almost all the time. He spent time on his laptop, or looking through newspapers, or reading books that he had gotten from the library.

Sam and Daddy were cautious with each other at first. They didn't talk about it though, they just watched each other and tried not to be angry. Before Sam had left, they would say mean things to each other when they argued. Sometimes Sam still said little things under his breath, and sometimes they still argued, but it was never as bad as it had been.

Dean became the one who took care of everything, like he used to when I was younger. He made breakfast for everyone, he went shopping for food, he picked up newspapers for Dad every morning, he spent time cleaning the weapons and sorting through the duffles. He tried to put himself between Sam and Daddy as a buffer, so that they could get used to being around each other again.

He picked me up from school one day and took me out for ice cream, and we had a talk. He told me that he understood what I had been going through before, with both Sam and Daddy gone, and he apologized for not being there for me. He asked me to try and talk to him in the future, and not act out to get his attention. I knew then that Dean was trying really hard to change, because he had never been one for talking about feelings or problems. He told me that we were all going to work on it together, and that he wanted me to feel like I could talk to him as well as Sam, because we lived a dangerous life, and it was going to get even more so. When I asked what he meant, he woldn't explain any further, just said that communication with each other was very important.

Shortly after Sam and Daddy had come home, we moved again. I came home from school to find them packing up all of our things.

"I've put your bags on your bed, get all of your clothes packed." Daddy told me.

"Why?" I asked him.

He stopped what he was doing, and turned to me. "Excuse me?" he asked sternly, and I realized that he was back in drill-seargant mode.

"Why do we have to go?"

He frowned at me. "Because we do." He pointed down the hall. "Get started, I want to be on the road by this evening."

I threw my backpack on the floor. "Aww!" I complained, stomping past him.

Daddy grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. "Lose the attitude, young lady, or else."

I bit back my response of 'or else what?' -that's something I would have said to Dean a few weeks ago, and he wouldn't have done anything about it, but this was Daddy in military mode, and if I said anything that sounded even remotely sassy, I knew I'd be riding in the car with a sore behind.

"Yes sir," I grumbled, looking at the floor. He let my arm go, and I walked to my room and started to put all my clothes and worldly possessions into the duffle bags that were on my bed.

Sam had sold his VW bug, so once again it was me and my brothers in the Impala. I curled up in the back seat with a blanket and pillow, being lulled to sleep by the familiar sounds of my brothers talking in low voices and the strains of Led Zeppelin coming through the car speakers.

We stayed with Uncle Bobby for a couple of weeks and I missed school during that time. I couldn't even go outside and was bored out of my mind by the time that Daddy announced we could move again. He found us another house to rent in another no-name suburb a couple of states away. Once we had moved and settled in, things went back to almost the way they had been before Sam had left for college.

The hunt that the three of them were now working on took up a lot of their time. Daddy had started putting stuff up on a wall in his bedroom, photographs, maps, and newpaper clippings, notes, and long pieces of string that stretched across to connect things. In the mornings, he sat and looked through newspapers while he drank his coffee, marking different articles with a red felt tip and Sam spent a lot of time going over research. I was glad that Sam was back with us, and glad to have Daddy home for now too, even if they were busy a lot of the time. At least we were all together again. We were in a new house in a new neighborhood, and I had overheard Daddy saying "It should be safe enough", so maybe things could be different now. And hopefully if we all tried to start talking about things, it would get better for all of us.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I walked down the hall holding my math workbook and my spelling notebook. Besides doing research all the time, Sam had taken it upon himself to start really overseeing my schoolwork. He was the one who checked over my homework every night and went through my folder at the end of the week. Dean and Daddy had always done that too, for the most part, but with Sam there was an intensity there, like he now wanted to make sure that I was doing everything to the absolute best of my abilities. He didn't let me slack off or make any excuses, and had even threatened to start spanking me on a regular basis if I didn't do what I was supposed to. That got me to toe the line immediately, because Sam rarely spanked me and the fact that he was even threatening to told me how serious he had become about my schooling.

I raised my hand to knock on his bedroom door and noticed that it was open slightly.

"I know I did, dude...I know. But I just can't come back." Sam sighed heavily, and I realized he must be talking on the phone to someone. I turned, planning on walking away, but then the next sentence hurt my heart, and I had to stay and listen.

"I know it's a lot to give up, man, don't you think I regret it? But...my family needs me here. My little sister's been having some problems and...my Dad... needs some help with some stuff. And I can't just leave them in the lurch, they're family. Well, if I could come back, I would, but I can't, so...someone else can have the money. Maybe someday...you never know. Yeah, thanks for calling. I'll be in touch. Okay, tell everyone hey for me. Yeah, bye."

I heard the beep of the phone hanging up, and then a sharp intake of breath. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head down, elbows on his knees and fists wrapped around each other. His head was down, resting on his clenched hands, and I could see his shoulders shaking. I tossed my books onto his bed and ran over to him, touching his arm. He started, and raised his head to look at me. Tears were streaming down his face, and in that moment I realized what a huge sacrifice Sam had made to come back from college, for us. I vowed in that moment to always do my absolute best in school so that I wouldn't disappoint him, so that his leaving would be worth it at least as far as I was concerned.

"Sammy..." I said quietly, and stepped forward. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me, and put his head on my shoulder. It was the first time he had ever done that with me, it was always me seeking comfort from him. I put my arms around him and hugged him tightly, and we held each other as Sam cried on my shoulder.

Eventually he got ahold of himself and calmed down. He sat back and dried his tears with his sleeves, and noticed my schoolbooks at the end of his bed. He asked what I needed, and he checked over my math homework, had me re-do two problems, and then helped me study for my spelling test. By the time I had spelled the last word out loud, his face was composed, without any hint of the previous upset.

We never talked about what had happened and I never mentioned it to Dad or Dean. I just hoped that someday they would somehow know how much Sam had given up for them, for all of us, and that they would appreciate it.


End file.
